Irresistible
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Sam puts on Brittany's old Cheerios uniform. Wearing it does things to him...and to everyone who sees him in it. From a GKM prompt. Pairings so far: Sam/Unique, Sam/Sue, Sam/Blaine, Sam/Kitty. If you don't see a pairing yet that you like, keep checking: I hope to get to a lot eventually. I'll try to remember to change the tags to reflect the latest chapter.
1. Unique

Unique stands outside the boys' locker room and knocks loudly. She's pretty sure Jake and Ryder are the only ones in there, if only because they wouldn't be doing what they're attempting to do in front of anyone else. So it's not like she'd get beaten up for walking in. But still.

"Yeah?" Jake calls.

Unique closes her eyes and opens the door just enough that they'll be able to hear her better. "It's Unique, baby. Can you boys come out here so I can talk to you?"

"We asked you to meet us in the choir room at six," Ryder answers. It's five till now.

"Uh-uh. Unique wants to talk to you while you're still wearing your own clothes." She waits for a response and, getting none, adds, "Marley told me what you're planning to do."

She hears them grumbling to each other for a minute before Jake yells, "It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"Oh, Unique was surprised all right! Unique went white as a ghost when Marley let your little plan slip." Jake laughs at this, but Ryder doesn't. "It's sweet, but I don't want you to do it. Come on out and I'll tell you why."

They emerge a few minutes later, wearing the jeans and t-shirts they've had on all day, thank goodness. "We wanted to do something to show you our support," Jake tries to explain before Unique can even say anything.

"Yeah, I mean, we know it doesn't mean much when it's just the four of us, and we're totally willing to do it during the school day," Ryder adds. "We just thought we might have to sort of work up to that."

"Oh, honeys." Unique could kiss them both, and she probably would if she thought...well, it's more than enough that they support her. "You getting yourselves beat up doesn't help me. Besides—it's lovely that you want to make a symbolic gesture, but you boys dressing in drag really isn't the same thing as Unique being Unique."

The boys continue to object that they really want to do something, and Unique continues to insist that parading around in a couple of Marley's dresses is not the thing they need to do. This goes on until Unique realizes that Ryder said something odd a few minutes ago. "Hold up, did you say _four_ of us earlier?"

"Oh, yeah. Sam wanted to do it too."

"Where is the blond cutie?"

Jake and Ryder look at each other for a second. "Choir room, probably," Jake says. "He was getting something to wear out of Brittany's locker, so he probably just changed there in the girls' locker room."

"Oh Lord," Unique says. "I best go talk to him."

"We'll come with you," Ryder says.

"No, don't, it'll just embarrass the poor boy. The less people that see him in one of Brittany's ensembles, the better."

The guys see her point, and Unique heads to the choir room by herself. She realizes that she shouldn't have referred to Sam as a "cutie"; they'll think she has a crush on him. Which she probably would, actually, if she allowed herself to have those anymore. But after the catfishing debacle, she's sworn them off, _at least_ until college. But realistically probably a lot longer than that even.

She walks into the choir room and Sam is sitting on the piano...in Brittany's old Cheerios uniform...and it hits her like a tidal wave that _holy mother of God _is that boy sexy. Not that this is news, exactly, but still, how did she not realize before how out-of-this-world sexy he is?

His legs! This is a boy who should wear a tiny skirt every day, because his legs are long and lean, muscular, with just the right amount of soft blond hair. And if she could just get a look _under_ the skirt...

_Unique_, she tells herself, _stop it this instant__! _

But she can't stop it, she's completely powerless. She even has a lady boner, right there in the choir room. She can only pray that her skirt is hiding hers better than Sam's is hiding his.

Wait..._what_?

Unique is totally _hot. _How is it that Sam has never noticed that before? He's always thought she's pretty, especially for...you know, someone who wasn't born with girl parts. But he's never before felt such an urge—such a _need_, really—to get with whatever parts she has.

_Okay, calm down, Sam. You can't just walk up to a girl and announce that you need to sex her up immediately. _He slides off the piano and walks over to her, way too close in fact, he's standing in front of her with only a pubic hair's distance between them. "Unique. I, uh..."

"Sam, can I kiss you?" Unique's hand moves to cover her mouth as soon as the words are out of it, but Sam's mouth gets there first. That mouth! Soft yet forceful, as to Unique's great surprise and delight _he_ kisses _her_!

It's not enough, though. His lips, his tongue in her mouth, her tongue in his...it's all _amazing,_ but it isn't enough. Unique finds herself pushing Sam backwards until he's pressed against the piano. When she can't push him any farther she finds her hands sliding up those gorgeous legs, toward the treasure under that itty bitty little skirt. "Is this okay?" she asks, although he probably can't understand what she's trying to say because their mouths are still locked together.

Sam tries to think, but it's really hard. Unique is squeezing his ass and she seriously has the strongest hands of any girl he's ever known and it's awesome. He really wants to reach under her skirt too. He's never wondered more than idly before what she still has or doesn't have down there and, like, if she has what he thinks she still has does she hate it? That's the thought—that's the _only_ thought—that keeps him from trying anything: if she hates her own equipment, then she probably wouldn't like Sam to touch it, and she might not even let him keep touching her at all, and he _really_ needs to keep touching her.

So under the shirt it is. He still doesn't know if she'll get mad, but it's a risk he has to take. He tries to go slow and not freak her out, but it doesn't quite work out that way and he pops off a button or two. Oh _god_. Under any other circumstances he'd probably stop to wonder whether her tits were real or what, but now all he can do is feel how _awesome_ they are. They're seriously like...fuck. And her nipples...he barely touches them and she makes _the_ sexiest sound he's ever heard.

And then—Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! She's _rubbing_ his cock...over the spanks, and he thinks he's going to cry. "Please, Unique, _please_! Please touch me..._under_. Please, baby."

Unique has never touched a dick before except...well, her own, technically...and she always worried that it would be weird to do so. But she doesn't hesitate for even a second when Sam asks her to touch his. She pushes the spanks down just as far as she has to and takes that beautiful boy's cock in her hand, and oh god it's so hard—Sam is hard for _her_, or despite her anyway, which in itself is more than she would have asked for—and it's burning hot, and it's all wet at the tip. He whines and pushes in to her touch, and he's...he's humping her hand, he's...she's got it wrapped around him, and so really it's like he's...making love to her hand, and that is just so hot Unique can't even take it.

Without totally knowing what she's doing, she pulls him away from the piano and pushes him onto the cold, hard, tile floor of the choir room. She pushes his skirt out of the way, exposing his gorgeous, gorgeous cock. She hikes her own skirt up out of the way, and she straddles him and grinds against him, and it's so perfect, it's like this is what her whole life has been leading up to. She's so overwhelmed with how good it is, and the fact that Sam's moans sound like those of someone who thinks it's good too, that she barely even cares how ridiculous she must look. And even when Sam says, "Unique, Unique, wait," all she can feel is dread of having to stop, not actual mortification at what she's doing.

"What, baby? Please don't tell me to stop."

"No, god no. Just, could you take your panties off too? Please?"

"Oh!" It's not something she would even consider, not for a second...normally.

But when Sam again says _please_, when he says, "Please, baby, I just...I really, really wanna feel your...your skin against mine. I want it so bad..." she slides them right off and flings them to the side.

An hour ago Unique would have said there was no way she was ready to let any part of another person touch her down there. But grinding herself against Sam, her skin against his, is totally blowing her mind. She's going to cream her panties any second. Or she would, if she were wearing any.

Sam can't believe how hot Unique is. He loves seeing her just let go despite how shy she obviously is about her, well, about her anatomy. And Sam would have thought he'd be uncomfortable with it too, honestly. But having a girl's cock grinding against his feels totally amazing; he's never wanted anything or anyone more.

And soon—really, really soon—his balls tighten and he's about to come. He grabs Unique by the hips and pulls her as close as he can. "Unique...baby...oh god..." Unique squeals and ruts against him wildly, and they fall over the edge together, clinging together while they each unload, their fluids mingling between their bodies as they ride out their waves of pleasure.

Sam has never come for so long before, and by the time their orgasms finally wind down he's exhausted. Unique is too, if her collapsing against his chest is any indication. He reaches up lazily to rub her back. "Oh my god, Unique. That was..."

Unique scrambles off him and pulls her skirt down. She scoots several feet away from him before she asks in a near-whisper, "Sam, honey, what just happened?"

Sam sits up but doesn't attempt to move closer. "I don't know," he says honestly. She looks so terror-struck. And yeah, whatever just happened was _really_ weird and confusing as hell, but Sam's a lot less interested in figuring that out than he is in helping Unique not be so horrified. "I'm sorry, Unique. I really didn't want to freak you out."

"You're worried that _I'm_ freaked out?" She actually laughs, just a little. "Honey, I live with my lady wang twenty-four-seven."

Sam laughs too. He probably isn't supposed to, but he can't help it—he just really never expected to hear the term _lady wang_ come out of Unique's mouth. "I'm not freaked out," he assures her. "I mean, it was weird—it was _really_ weird, but only because I've never had things escalate that soon and that fast with anyone. It wasn't weird because of your lady wang."

"Only I can say that word," Unique informs him.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry!" He's really trying not to say the wrong thing.

"I'm only teasing you, baby." She gives him a small smile.

"Oh. Well, don't worry, I probably won't say it that often anyway." He smiles back at her, but now he feels awkward. "So, um. This is totally out of order, but...would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"For real?"

"Yeah, of course for real. I mean, unless you don't want to."

"Yes! I do want to. Just...don't wear that sexy cheerleader uniform or I might not be able to control myself."

Sam laughs, not really feeling awkward anymore. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on making it a regular thing." That reminds him, though. "I wonder what happened to Ryder and Jake, they were supposed to meet us here."

Unique fills him in on her conversation with them outside the locker room, which she'd completely forgotten about until now. They get up and turn their backs to each other while putting their underclothes back on, and they walk to the choir room door together while making plans for their date. "So I'll see you Friday at seven," Sam says. "Well, and at school before that, so..." He hesitates just a second before placing his hand on her cheek and kissing her. And then Unique walks off one way to go home, and Sam heads to the girls' locker room in the other direction.

He needs to change out of this stupid cheerleader outfit and back into his own clothes.


	2. Sue

**A/N: Yay, it's the pairing no one asked for! Skip it if you want, but be warned that it's kind of an important chapter for the plot, such as it is. Also, I promise this chapter isn't _too_ graphic.**

Sam walks into the locker room, and now he _knows_ something really weird is going on...because he pops an insta-boner at the sight of Principal Sylvester. Because his first thought isn't _Shit, I'm busted for being in the girls' locker room_; it's _Holy shit,_ _I have to fuck her._

She has his back to him. And, wow, he's never noticed her ass before, and _Oh, Jesus, Sam, stop!_ "I'm going to stop you right there," she says, not turning to look at him. "My contract makes it very clear that this locker room is reserved for my exclusive use between the hours of six and ten, so you'll need to turn around and just march yourself right out of here, missy."

Yeah. Yeah, turn around and march right out. Except he can't, because he wants her _so bad_. And so he stands there and tries not to stare at Sue Sylvester's ass, but he literally can't help it.

"I am practicing the ancient Buddhist art of medi-hate-tion, focusing all my hatred and channeling it toward the destruction of the glee club, so if you don't mind..." She turns around and her jaw drops as she takes in the sight of Sam in that cheerleader outfit, that damn sexy, irresistible cheerleader outfit. "Where did you get that?" she demands.

"I...uh..." Sam holds one of the skirt pleats between his fingers, but he still can't tear his eyes away from Sue. "It's Brittany's."

"I know it's Brittany's," she says. She clutches her throat and walks toward him. "What I asked you is...oh, never mind. I can barely expect a straight answer out of you under the best of circumstances. I'm sure it's pointless to even try before we knock boots."

"Before we...?"

Sue sighs, exasperated, and unzips her track suit jacket. Sam tries really, really hard not to look at her tits when she takes it off, but they're right there, and what else is he going to look at? And they're not that great—he really does realize that they're not that great because they're _Coach Sylvester's tits_—but it doesn't even matter and he just really, really wants to touch them. "...and you're so busy ogling my bouncing Buddhas that you didn't hear a word I just said."

"Huh?" Sam asks.

She takes his face in her hand and forces him to look in her eyes. And she looks annoyed, like always, but then he expression actually softens for a second and looks affectionate, and then it turns to one of pure lust. "Listen carefully. You want me."

"I...uh...How did you..."

"And, god help, me I want you too."

"You do?" Sam asks. He feels himself smiling like an idiot. _Why_ is he smiling like an idiot over Sue Sylvester wanting him?

"Yes, and trust me, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can give me the uniform and we can start pretending this never happened." She grabs his ass and pulls him toward her so they're crotch-to-crotch, and they both gasp.

Sam really just wants to start fucking her, but he's actually managing to pay attention to what she's saying too. "Wait, so it's the uniform?"

"Of course it's the uniform. Unless Nurse Butterfingers McFumblepants gave you a charisma injection lately." Sue takes his hands and places them on her breasts and mutters, "Oh, yeah."

Sam knows...he _knows_ this should be way more disturbing than awesome. But still, it's pretty fucking awesome. Even more awesome is when it dawns on him that he can apparently get anyone he wants—specifically, someone hotter than Sue—to go crazy for him by just...what? Does he just have to wear the uniform, or...? "How does it work?"

"Good god, I _know_ those lips can be put to better use than talking right now. Just launch your torpedo into me until we both release our geysers of feel-good brain chemicals and feel-sticky genital chemicals—and, yes, ladies do release geysers, though I do your generation of boys doesn't realize that, which is why I gave up taking fifteen-year-old lovers when I turned thirty last year—and then we'll have a window of approximately nineteen minutes during which I can explain everything before the effects start again."

"What?"

"Oh my god, how much farther do I have to dumb it down for you? You see, you have a snake that wants nothing more than to be inside a nice, cozy cave—"

"Stop! Oh my god, stop right there!" Sam thinks about stuffing her mouth with his snake—his dick! his _dick_!—so she can't go on with her bizarre metaphors. "I know about sex. I just meant _what_ as in...approximately nineteen minutes? How do you know so much about it?"

"Why are you surprised?" Sue reaches under his spanks and gropes his ass. "Who else do you think could come up with such an ingenious scheme? Now why don't you just slip out of those clothes, hand them over, and we can enjoy our seven seconds in heaven and then go about our respective business?"

"Yeah," Sam agrees. She's got her hands on his chest now, and she's pushing the cheer top up, and it feels really disturbingly good, especially when her fingers brush over his nipples. But he has a sudden moment of clarity and he grabs her hands and stops her. "Wait, you can't have the uniform!"

"Don't be stupid," Sue tells him as she tries to pull her hands free of his. Failing this, she licks his neck and adds, "You wouldn't know what to do with it."

Sam turns her around and stands behind her so she can't keep doing stuff to him that make it hard to concentrate. Because he's not actually stupid and he's realized that if he wants to find out from her what's going on he's going to have to get her to tell him before they get to those nineteen minutes where the uniform is powerless and all she'll have to do is walk away if she doesn't feel like answering.

He holds one of her boobs in each hand and kisses the back of her neck, hoping it'll do more to her than it's doing to him (which is more than he will ever admit to anyone, weirdly powered uniform or no). She moans and starts to grind her track-suit-covered ass against his erection. Damn it! He wants to let her keep doing it, but he forces himself to twist so she can't reach him. "Tell me everything you know about the uniform."

"Orgasms first," Principal Sylvester insists.

"Orgasms never, until you tell me."

"You're bluffing," she says, squirming in his grasp. "You want it as bad as I do."

She's right, he's bluffing. But he thinks she's bluffing about knowing that he's bluffing. "I do want it," he concedes. He nibbles on her ear and whispers, "But not as bad as you do. I just came like ten minutes ago. How long has it been for you?"

She scoffs—or at least she makes a noise that's supposed to be a scoff. It sounds a lot more desperate than dismissive, though, and he knows he's got her. "So what if it's been more than ten minutes for me? I'm not a sixteen-year-old boy."

Sam's eighteen but he doesn't bother to correct her on that point. "Exactly," he says. "Who has more practice at not having sex when they really want to than teenage guys?"

She struggles a bit before ultimately surrendering. "Fine. But at least let me sit in your lap while I tell you."

Sam thinks about it for a second. "Fine. Sitting but no groping. And no dry humping."

"Fine." They take a few moments to get settled: Sue tries to sit facing him, straddling his thighs, but Sam will only allow her to sit sidesaddle on his lap. "Okay," she says, "I'm going to make this quick because I need your train in my station."

And there is no way a statement like that should turn Sam on, so he pretends it doesn't and agrees.

"The uniform has an aphrodisiac effect, as you've noticed."

"Aphrodisiac? That's like pheromones?"

"Yeah. Except real," Sue says, rolling her eyes.

"And you made it? The uniform? And gave it to Brittany?"

"That's right, Sammy Hardy. Now take out your—"

"Why? Brittany probably would have fucked you anyway." Not a nice thing to say about his ex-girlfriend, but true nonetheless. She once told him about some pretty explicit fantasies she had about Coach Bieste, so...

"I didn't create the uniform so I could seduce minors! Like I would've needed help for that!"

"Then why?"

"The orgasms. Every orgasm that Brittany—and the Cheerios who wore the uniform before her—had or caused a partner to have while wearing the uniform gave her a competitive edge. How do you think we won all those national championships? And why do you think my Cheerios were always smiling so hard after every practice?"

"They were fucking each other?"

"Yes, MacArthur genius. Well, and Brittany liked to branch out beyond her teammates. It turns out the greater variety of partners gave her an even better edge."

"But not because it hurt the other Cheerios, right? It didn't, like, drain their edgy energy or something?"

"Of course not, why would it? You watch too much bad sci-fi. If anything it made all my girls better competitors."

"But how does it work? What did you do to it?"

Sue sighs with exasperation. "I dipped it in a vat of phlebotinum, okay? Thta's a high-tech and _highly classified_ substance that if I tell you any more about I'll have to kill you. Now, I have had the exact maximum amount of precoital conversation that I can tolerate..." She takes his hand, which he's been clutching around her waist to avoid getting too carried away, and moves it between her legs. She soaked, all the way through her track suit and whatever ugly granny panties she's no doubt wearing underneath. Not that Sam cares in the least how hideous her underthings are, because he's also reached his maximum tolerance for precoital...anything.

Sam lets her up and she's out of the bottom half of her track suit before he knows it. She tries to rid him of the spanks, but he doesn't trust her with them and won't let them past his knees. She doesn't fight with him, she just sits in his lap again, facing him, taking his cock inside her in one go.

And it's so, so good—it's so good that he's completely forgotten that it shouldn't be good at all, it should be creeping him out big time. It was the waiting, probably, the trying to act like he didn't need it that bad, that makes it _such_ a relief to be fucking her now. They don't even manage to get much of a rhythm going, and actually Sam can't really move that much with the way his legs are trapped in the uniform spanks and the way Sue is holding him down against the bench.

None of that matters in the least, he just needs to come, he just needs to come so bad. And he's going to, and he can tell it's going to be epic, and he tries to brace himself.

Sue starts to come first. She's not that loud, and she doesn't even start humping him that much harder or anything (probably because it couldn't get that much harder), but he knows she's coming hard because he feels her muscles go crazy all over his cock. Sam screams, and then he muffles his scream by biting the shoulder of his principal as his dick pulses and unloads in her.

They both close their eyes and lean against each other while they catch their breath. Their postcoital tenderness is short-lived, however, and soon Sue climbs off his lap and orders him to face the wall while she puts her clothes back on. Sam is more than happy to comply, and he keeps his eyes squeezed shut just to be sure.

"Are you going to hand over the uniform voluntarily?" she asks. "You can turn around now, by the way."

"Hell no, I'm not giving it to you," Sam says. He turns and opens his eyes cautiously.

She points her index finger right at his face but fails to look threatening at all. "You're just lucky that my muscles are way too jelly-like at the moment to fight you for it.. But mark my words. If you _ever_ wear that thing in my presence again..."

"I won't!" Sam says. The sex was amazing, so he doesn't exactly regret it, but still he doesn't even want to think about repeating it. "Believe me, I won't."

Sue tries to give him the hairy eyeball before skulking out of the locker room, but, again, not threatening at all. As soon as she's gone Sam collapses back on the bench. As soon as his brain is functioning again he's going to figure out who to use this baby on next.


	3. Blaine

He really can't decide what to do next, though. Now that he knows the power of the uniform he feels like just springing it on any more unsuspecting people would make him sort of a rapist. He should probably just bury the thing in the backyard, but the thought of letting it go to waste like that is extremely unappealing.

So he calls Blaine and says, "I need your help." Blaine, of course, tells him to come right over, because he's an awesome bro like that. He changes into his street clothes, puts the uniform in his backpack, and heads out.

In the hallway he passes Becky, and he freezes and presses himself against the wall. He's hopes, god he hopes, that the uniform only works if he's wearing it and not just carrying it. Because of all the people he'd feel terrible about taking advantage of...

He watches warily as she walks past and notices with relief the absence of lustful stirrings. Becky's apparently not feeling anything either; she scowls at him and says, "What are you staring at, mophead?" Even though this seems to prove he's totally safe as long as he's not actually wearing the outfit, it feels like a close call, and he runs out to his car in the parking lot.

Blaine gives him a puzzled look when he opens the door to let him in. "Why are you holding your backpack like that? Don't tell me you've got another cat in there."

"Sue," Sam explains, glancing around. Blaine's front yard has a lot of landscaping a person could be hiding behind. "I can't let her get what's in here."

"Principal Sylvester?" Blaine asks, and now he's looking around too. "Do you think she followed you here?"

"With her, who knows?"

Blaine nods and says, "Well, get in. Quick." He pulls Sam inside, locks the door, and shuts the curtains. "What've you got? Info that'll bring her down?"

"No, dude." Sam looks at Blaine like he's crazy. "It's a magic Cheerios uniform."

"A magic Cheerios uniform? O...kay." He reaches to reopen one of the curtains, but Sam grabs his arm.

"Dude, you don't believe me?"

"Considering you just used the word magic..."

"Right. My bad. It's not magic, it's actually some super-classified scientific dealie. Really high tech. You wouldn't understand."

"Uh-huh."

"Not that you're too dumb or anything...I mean, I don't really understand it myself...but that's just because Principal Sylvester wasn't at liberty to divulge too many details..."

Blaine can't even imagine what kind of bullshit Sue Sylvester was trying to feed Sam, or more importantly why. "Maybe that's because there are no details to divulge," he suggests as gently as he can. He doesn't want to imply that he thinks Sam is overly gullible or anything. "Maybe it's just an ordinary cheerleading uniform that for some reason she wants you to think—"

"Nuh-uh," Sam says definitively. "This is no ordinary uniform. I've seen it in action. I've seen its powers."

Blaine dramatically pulls him into the dining room. "Then for god's sake get away from the door, Blond Chameleon, and tell me about its sinister powers!"

Sam crosses his arms. "Dude, I came to you for advice, and you either think I'm joking around or you think I'm an idiot."

"I don't think you're stupid, Sam," Blaine says, trying to sound conciliatory. "I admit I thought maybe you were joking, but..." He pulls out a chair for Sam and sits in one himself. "Tell me about the sinister powers."

Sam doesn't sit. "I didn't say they were sinister! They're actually awesome."

Sam's acting really serious, so Blaine is at a loss. "Okay. Well, I can't offer any advice if you don't tell me what _awesome_ powers the outfit has."

"Okay, so...I put the thing on and it...it makes me totally irresistible. Like, chicks who see me in it can't help themselves, they're all over me. And I assume it works on gay dudes too. And maybe even straight dudes, I probably should have asked, but probably it does work on them too, because, I mean, it worked—"

"Sam. That's not magic. You're a good looking guy. And those Cheerios uniforms...well, lots of people have a thing for cheerleaders, even girls for guys who are cheerleaders..." As Blaine has discovered the awkward way on an occasion or two.

"I'm not just saying I look hot in it. That goes without saying. I'm saying people can't keep their hands off me. People who...I mean, they probably thought I was hot already, but they never _did_ anything about it. And, uh, it works on me too..."

"You can't keep your hands off yourself?"

"No, off them. The girls...the people who can't keep their hands off me. It's mutual."

"Well, that's normal. Everyone is turned on by someone being into them."

"Not when the someone is Sue Sylvester," Sam mutters.

Blaine leans forward, but he misses what Sam says. "What?"

"I said, You're not going to believe me until I show you, are you?" Sam really didn't want to spring the thing on anyone unsuspecting, but it's not like he hasn't been _trying_ to warn him. And honestly, he really, really wants to find out if it works with dudes, and there's no dude he'd rather find out with than Blaine.

"So show me!" Blaine says, letting a slight note of exasperation creep into his voice.

"Fine, I will!" Sam storms out of the dining room to change, but he pops his head back in a couple seconds later. "Just to be really clear...if we see each other when I'm wearing this thing, we're going to end up having sex. For real, I mean."

"Got it," Blaine says as he leans back in his chair and puts his feet up on the one he offered to Sam a few minutes ago. "You have to be the one to explain to Kurt why it's not cheating."

Wow, Blaine is really annoying sometimes. It would serve him right if Sam _didn't_ put on a miniskirt and fuck him. Except that he's really curious now, and besides, the look on Blaine's face when he realizes how wrong he was is going to be fucking priceless.

Sam changes in the guest bathroom, and when he reenters the dining room the look on Blaine's face is, indeed, fucking priceless.

He shouldn't be so surprised—he actually knew what was coming this time—but seeing Blaine knocks the breath out of him. He totally forgets about wanting to rub it in that he was right and every other pointless and trivial thing because he _needs to fuck Blaine super bad_.

Blaine takes one look at Sam in that Cheerios get-up—and Sam did _not_ mention it was a girls' uniform, which should actually make him a lot less hot, in Blaine's opinion, but which does not make him less hot _at all_—and he just...he can't even...His legs—Jesus fucking Christ! And his ass and his...! Sam does a little twirl and the skirt flies up, revealing his round, perfect ass and his hard, perfect cock—both covered but not really hidden by a layer of red spandex, and Blaine is just...He's just up and out of his chair and before he really knows what he's doing he's jumping on Sam, literally jumping on him. Sam catches him and stumbles backward a couple steps, and Blaine wraps his legs around his waist and tightens each fist around a hunk of hair and kisses him hard.

This isn't...he doesn't want to cheat on Kurt, but whatever's going on feels so much stronger than his own will, it feels inevitable, and maybe that's just an excuse because he _has_ actually wanted to do Sam for, like, forever, but he's going to sort all that out in his mind later...or not...really all he cares about is getting his best friend inside him.

Sam holds and moves Blaine's ass as they grind against each other. _Definitely works with gay dudes_, he thinks when he realizes he doesn't have any misgivings, not a single one, about wanting to fuck a guy. He has a bit of a misgiving about the fact that Blaine is with Kurt—he isn't really available—but Kurt would understand if he knew about he uniform. He would have to.

"Fuck me, Sam. God, please fuck me."

Sam wants to fuck Blaine more than anything. But he's done anal with Brittany, and he knows you can't just rip someone's clothes off and stick it in. You have to help them get ready, it takes time, and time is the one thing Sam feels like he absolutely does not have.

He maneuvers Blaine to the table, pushes some candles and shit out of the way, and lays him down on his back. He's pretty sure he's going to have to literally rip his pants off because he's wearing this belt that's, like, it's like Kurt locked him up in some medieval chastity device. But Blaine unfastens it himself, and Sam pulls off his uniform spanks. Then, just in case he has to be actually wearing every single part of the uniform for the phlebotinum to do its thing, he ties them around his wrist.

Blaine's nude from the waist down now, and his cock is just so...fucking...amazing...It's not like Sam has never wondered what it would be like to mess around with Blaine, and it's not like his wondering has been strictly idle. And he thought—not that he ever thought the two of them would ever actually do anything, but he thought, hypothetically, that _if_ they did, he would probably enjoy it. But he never in a million years did he think he would be _so _in love with his friend's cock, and he kind of knows it's just the uniform making him feel that way, but on the other hand it doesn't really feel like it is just that.

But whatever, even if it is just the uniform, he wants Blaine's cock, he _needs_ it. He wants it in his ass, actually, even though that's something he never really thought he'd probably enjoy if given the chance. What stops him from just impaling himself on his friend's dick is that same thing that keeps him from impaling his friend on his: the urgency, his inability to wait. So instead of taking it in his ass he takes it in his mouth.

"Oh god! Sam, oh Jesus, oh god!" Sam's mouth, fuck. Considering all the times Blaine has imagined having his dick in it, there's no way he should be _this_ surprised by how amazing it is. But he is, he's blown away, he's so blown away that it doesn't occur to him that "blown away" is sort of a funny expression, given the situation. Nothing occurs to him, really, except the instinct to arch up and push himself deeper into Sam's mouth.

And Sam can't believe how good Blaine's dick feels in his mouth. It's not just that he doesn't mind it—he fucking _loves_ it. He sucks hard and sloppy and he really wants to taste it all, especially Blaine's come. The only thing that's not totally perfect about this is that he own cock actually hurts, and he's jerking it but that does nothing to relieve the ache.

He doesn't know if Blaine can sense his problem or if Blaine just really wants his cock and much as he wants Blaine's, but either way he wants to kiss Blaine—even though he sort of already is—when Blaine says, "Sam, Sam, sixty-nine me. Come on."

Sam swivels on the table without dropping Blaine's cock from his mouth, and soon he's got his ass in his face and his junk dangling tantalizingly in front of Blaine's mouth. Except that Tantalus was never able to reach his treats, whereas Blaine gets his mouth around his mouthwatering temptation within seconds. Sam's cock is _so_ warm and hard in his mouth, and it tastes _so_ good. Sam's balls rest heavily on Blaine's nose, and Blaine has a super close up view of a totally gorgeous ass, made all the more irresistible by the little skirt frills that it's poking out from.

Blaine _so_ wants to fuck Sam. He wants to fuck Sam and he wants to get fucked by Sam, and there's no way he's going to get to, but he can't be bothered by that too much right now because he's super close to coming in Sam's amazingly awesome mouth.

He should warn Sam—it seems like the polite thing to do when a straight guy is blowing you for reasons that aren't totally clear—but that would involve thinking half a second ahead _and_ letting Sam's cock out of his mouth, neither of which he's prepared to do. By the time he makes a sound that's something like "Mmmff!" he's already unloading into his best friend's mouth. And his best friend starts unloading into his mouth a split second later, and it's so good Blaine's pretty sure they actually levitate and hover over the dining room table for a few seconds.

Blaine swallows Sam's load...and, amazingly, he's pretty sure Sam swallows his. He doesn't feel him leaning over the edge of the table or groping around for a napkin or something to spit into, at any rate.

Sam rolls off him and turns so he's lying on his side and their heads are next to each other. "Believe me now?"

Blaine laughs. "Yeah, I'd say the evidence is pretty irrefutable." He runs his fingers through Sam's hair and pulls his head down for a kiss. Damn, that mouth! It doesn't hurt one bit that Blaine can taste his own spunk on it.

Sam says, "I should probably change out of this thing." But instead of getting off the table he lays his head on Blaine's chest, closes his eyes, and brushes his fingertips up and down his side.

"But not because you're freaked out, right?" Blaine asks. "Because I don't want to be the kind of gay guy who takes advantage of his straight friends."

"Takes ad-...? Dude, I was the one who knew what was going to happen. I _did_ try to warn you..."

Blaine rubs his back and agrees, "You did. You warned me and, through no fault of yours, I didn't listen." His hand is wandering lower on Sam's back as he adds, "You wanna hear a secret?"

"Totally."

"It was a little disappointing. I mean it was _awesome_. It was, honest to god, the best sex I ever had. The only thing that was disappointing was that it was over so fast. I mean, I really wanted to—"

"Me too. I mean, since we're sharing secrets and everything. Not to mention bodily fluids, so...I really wanted you to fuck me too."

Blaine's pretty sure he didn't hear that right. "Wait. You wanted _me_ to...?"

"Well, and I wanted to fuck you too. But, I mean...I've fucked someone before, but I've never..._taken it_ before. So I pretty much can't think of a better way to find out what it's like."

"Damn." Blaine's suddenly aware that his hand is getting awfully close to Sam's butt, and so he stops rubbing his back because he doesn't quite trust himself in light of this new information. "I wish...I mean, I _almost_ wish there were some way to justify doing this again. But, I mean, now that I know..."

"Well it does give me a competitive edge," Sam says. "Each orgasm does. So it would be, like, for the good of the glee club."

"Uh-huh." Blaine is skeptical, to say the least. But then, he was skeptical about the outfit's powers in general, so..."So it supposedly makes you a better singer, or what?"

"I guess? I haven't actually tried that part out yet. You want me to sing something?"

"Yeah. Why don't you?"

Sam slides off the table and Blaine sits on the edge to watch him. Sam starts to sing, and good Lord, how is Blaine supposed to judge whether his singing is objectively better than usual when they just blew each other, when Sam just said he's never been fucked before and he wants Blaine to do it, and now he's wearing this tiny little skirt with nothing underneath it and singing "Like a Virgin"? "Seriously, Sam?"

Sam stops singing. "What? It's not good?"

"Yes, it's good. It's fucking amazing. But I mean, _that_ song?"

"It's the only song that popped into my head." It is kind of weird, now that he thinks about it, considering that he's had sex three times today with three different people.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" Blaine asks.

"I don't think it's been nineteen minutes yet, so we don't have to," Sam says.

Blaine doesn't know what nineteen minutes has to do with anything, but he's pretty sure Sam's wrong about them not having to do it. Which is not to say that he doesn't want to. _God_, he wants to! He just has to trust that Kurt will understand when he sees Sam in the uniform. "I have lube in my bedroom," he says, and he takes Sam's hand and leads him up the stairs to his room. He goes to the dresser to get the lube from under a stack of vests, and when he turns around he sees Sam on the bed, head down, ass up. "Oh Jesus Christ."

"I can move if this is no good," Sam says.

"It's good, Sam. It's very good." Blaine kneels behind him on the bed. It's all so astonishingly good he almost doesn't know how to start. After a moment's hesitation he starts with a touch—a gentle touch, a caress, really, starting on Sam's back and moving downward. And he kisses his hip, and Sam sighs, and he kisses some more...

And Sam interrupts him. "Blaine, that's...If we ever mess around just you and me and no uniform, then I'd love for you to do that to me for hours. But the phlebotinum is going to kick in soon, and when it does we're both gonna need for you to fuck me, like, right away. So..."

"The...what? It hasn't kicked in yet?" Blaine is pretty sure he feels the uniform's effects. He _definitely_ wants Sam.

"Well...no. You were there. Didn't it feel more urgent than this before?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So...from what I'm told, anyway, it's gonna be like _that_ again, approximately nineteen minutes after our orgasms, which were...I dunno, I forgot to look at the time."

"_Approximately_...?" It's possibly the most absurd thing Blaine has ever heard. Except for every other absurd thing Sam has told him about this uniform, all of which have turned out to be true. "Right. I'm on it." He squirts some lube onto his fingers and trusts that he'll know when the nineteen minute mark—the _approximate_ nineteen minute mark—hits.

Sam jumps at the first touch of cold goo on his asshole. But Blaine's fingers are warm and skilled and soon they're working him open in a way that feels really good. One of them is inside him soon, and it's a little foreign and strange but not at all unpleasant. Soon he wants more, and Blaine obliges him with a second finger. He's about to ask Blaine to add one more when he feels the uniform take effect, and he knows that fingers are not going to cut it anymore. "Blaine!" he pleads, and Blaine answers simply, "Yeah."

Blaine's dick was gradually stiffening while he was prepping Sam, but now it's suddenly rock hard, and he totally feels that urgency Sam was talking about. He lubes up his cock and presses it against Sam's waiting entrance. He's all set to just ram it in, but...well, this is Sam's first time, and he's not _that_ well stretched..."Actually I should probably..."

"Oh my god, Blaine, seriously, you have to fuck me right now."

"But what if it hurts?"

"If it hurts too bad we can sixty-nine again. Just...please!"

Ew, ass to mouth, that's gross. But whatever, they can hop in the shower if necessary. But he hopes it won't be necessary, because as awesome as Sam's mouth is, now Blaine really, really wants his ass. He holds Sam's hips and summons all his willpower—he knows he's going to need all of it to enter his best friend _slowly_.

The sensation of Blaine's cock breaching him is _such _a relief. But then instead of just slamming it home Blaine is just inching it in like a...like a little old lady who's pulling into her garage and she's terrified she's going to crash through the wall or something. "You're not gonna crash through, Blaine."

"What?"

"Go for it, dude! _Fuck me_!"

And there goes all Blaine's willpower, as against his better judgment he follows Sam's order and _fucks him_. Sam screams and pounds his fist against the mattress, but before Blaine can ask if he's okay he says, "Fuck, yeah, like that." Blaine gives up all pretense of self-control and just slams in again and again like a wild animal.

Sam has never felt anything remotely like this, and it hurts, yes, but at the same time it feels just perfect, like his most basic need—one that he never even knew he had—is finally getting filled. Filled like his ass is with Blaine's cock, which just seems so right there. Blaine's cock is nailing this spot hidden deep inside him—he's pretty sure he's going to come without even touching himself. He can't think, he can just feel, and the pleasure is so outpacing the pain—the pain is gone entirely soon, and it's just "So good, so _good_," which he's only vaguely aware he's saying out loud.

Blaine's been wanting to come since pretty much the first second he got inside Sam. It's the one thing he is still managing to hold back on, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep it up. Everything about Sam is so perfect. The way he feels—_obviously_. It's not just that he has a perfect tight, virgin asshole, but every movement he makes seems specifically designed to affect Blaine in _just_ the right way. The way he looks—it's Sam, so no surprise, exactly, that he's unbelievably hot, but there's also something about his pose, about the way he's presenting his ass to get fucked...The way he sounds—g_od._ The way he keeps saying _so good, so good_; the way Blaine can barely hear him saying that over the creaking of the bed and the slapping of their skin together. There's a scent, even, and it's the scent that's maybe driving him most crazy. Maybe it's the uniform, maybe that's how it works, except it smells so distinctly _Sam_...so distinctly Sam and so distinctly sexual...

"Oh fuck!" There's something about the way Blaine just nailed him and Sam knows he's done for. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck..._" All his muscles lock up, but at the same time he feels like they're vibrating. The orgasm takes over his whole body, not just his cock, which is spurting copious amount of spunk onto Blaine's comforter, but his fingers, his toes, his scalp...everything.

As soon as Blaine feels Sam's walls constrict around his dick he knows he can't hold off any longer. A cry is ripped from his throat as his cock surges forward, deeper into Sam's ass than should be possible, and fills him with orgasmic juices. His cock pulses and pulses, shooting more and more come into Sam's cavity; even when there's nothing left to shoot out, it keeps twitching and pulsing for a good long while.

Eventually Sam slumps forward and rolls onto his side to avoid the wet spot, and Blaine has to pull out. He cuddles up behind Sam and spoons him and—because why not, after everything else they've just done—kisses the back of his neck. "Mmm, that's nice," Sam says sleepily, and so Blaine does it again.

"Do you wanna take a little nap?" Blaine asks. He could sure go for one.

"Yeah, but...I need to leave or at least change before...I don't think I can do this again in nineteen minutes. Now that we're done it kinda hurts..."

"I'm sorry!" Blaine says.

"Don't be, it was fucking incredible. Totally worth it. I just...wish I didn't have to go all the way downstairs to get my clothes."

"So don't. Just take those off. I'll get your jeans and t-shirt when we wake up."

"Yeah, okay." Sam pulls off the top and skirt and unties the spanks from around his wrist. "This is the first time I've ever gotten undressed in bed with someone to _avoid_ having sex with them." He starts to shove the uniform under a pillow but decides that might be too close to his person. He shoves it under the bed instead.

"Yeah, well, I guess you've had a lot of firsts today," Blaine observes.

"Fact," Sam agrees before they both drift off, snuggled up together.


	4. Kitty

Sam waits for Blaine at his locker in the morning. "So, um. Are you in lots of trouble?" he asks before Blaine even reaches it.

Blaine purses his lips for a second. "You could say that. Apparently we broke a vase, and my mother insisted the tablecloth is ruined forever after she figured out what we did on it." He doesn't add that that the tablecloth and the vase were shockingly expensive and his mother is making him work off the replacement cost. At minimum wage, which is what she informed him his labor around the house is worth, it's going to take him months to pay her back. "And, uh, you're not really invited over for a while."

"Yeah, I figured." This doesn't surprise Sam in the least, as he recalls the look of pure wrath on Blaine's mother face when she stormed into his bedroom clutching the clothes Blaine discarded in the dining room. "Dude, I'm so..."

"Don't apologize," Blaine tells him. It was so worth it. "So, what are you gonna do with that thing?"

"I dunno," Sam admits. He had intended to come up with a plan as soon as he got home, but then he had fallen asleep immediately, totally exhausted even after his naked nap with Blaine. "Ask me again in glee. Maybe I'll know by then."

By glee time, however, Sam is still undecided.

Blaine suggests, "Why don't you sing something? Then at least we can see if it really makes a difference."

"I thought we already established that it does. You said my singing was amazing."

"Yeah, well." Blaine feels his cheeks heat up at the memory. He whispers, "I maybe wasn't in a state of mind to be totally impartial when you sang 'Like a Virgin' to me in that tiny little..." Crap, Blaine, don't get hard here in the choir room. Sam isn't even _in_ the uniform; you're just _remembering _it.

"Okay, good point. So I'll sing that and see—"

"No! Something different!" Blaine will never be able to listen to that song again, especially not to Sam singing it. "It should, uh, be something you've sung before _for everyone_. So they can compare. Oh, but the theme this week is..."

"Dude, I sang 'Baby' for anthems week. The theme is a suggestion at most."

They decide on "You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'," and Blaine mentally prepares a case for how it fits the theme just in case Sam is challenged on it.

He's not.

After he finishes, the group is silent for a few second before bursting into raucous applause. Jake and Ryder stand. Marley looks like she might have cried a little during the performance. Mr. Schuester shakes his head in wonder. "Sam, that was..._wow_. The first time you sang that song was good, but this was just...have you been practicing that number?"

"Not exactly."

"I can't put my finger on what was different this time," Artie says, "but I wasn't tempted to look at my phone once."

Mr. Schue puts his arm around Sam's shoulder and says, "Everyone, _this_ is the level our game needs to be at for nationals. Great job, Sam!" Everyone claps again, except Kitty, who has an expression he can't read. But then, he's used to that from her. "All right, who wants to go next?"

"Blaine does," Sam says.

"I do?"

"Of course you do." Sam gives him a look. They have to see if it affected him too.

Blaine stands and goes to the front of the room and tries to think of a song they've all heard him sing, which means nothing from last year, nothing from when Mr. Schuester was in D.C... "Blaine, if you don't have a song prepared..." Mr. Schue starts...

"'I Still Believe'" Blaine tells the band quickly. Thank god they remember it.

After his song, and more enthusiastic applause, Mr. Schuester tells him, "If you'd sung it like _that_ during your sing-off with Sue you would have won."

Tina, bless her, defends him: "Blaine was robbed. What was _wrong _with all of you, anyway?" She glances around the room indignantly. "But, Blaine, I think Mr. Schue is right that it was even better this time."

Kitty manages to corner them both right after practice, before Sam even gets a chance to talk to Unique. "So which one of you was the girl?"

Sam immediately feels his face go beet red. "Wh-what are you..."

"It was a rhetorical question. I've seen the way you're walking today, Samantha."

"Look, Kitty," Blaine says. He's managing to play it a lot cooler than Sam could even dream of, though his cheeks are a little pinker than normal too. "I don't know what you think—"

Kitty holds up a hand preemptively. "Save it. No one's performance improves like that for no reason. And I'm thinking the reason is probably inside that backpack you're clutching to your chest." She _knew_ something was up from the way he's been guarding that thing all day, and now it all makes sense.

Sam just stares at her, totally dumbfounded. Blaine's the one who realizes how she figured it out, and he whispers to Sam, "She's a Cheerio. They probably all—"

"That's right, we all know about Brittany's special uniform, which is now Sam's special uniform, apparently."

"What do you want?" Blaine asks.

Kitty smiles sweetly. "I want to help the team, of course."

"You want to...oh!"

"I've really missed Brittany since she left," Kitty says. Brittany was a total slut, and such an airhead, but Kitty did enjoy helping the team with her.

"You've...oh!" Sam gets a distinct mental image of Brittany and Kitty naked together. He has no idea what Kitty likes to do in those situations, but he knows that Brittany is crazy talented with her tongue, so...

Kitty pats him patronizingly on the cheek. "The uniform doesn't even work for most people. I tried wearing it, Bree tried wearing it...It must react with a certain type of...brain wave." She turns to Blaine and says, "I'd invite you to join us, but...you know." She takes Sam by the hand and pulls him toward the door.

"Wait!" Blaine calls just as they're about to leave. Kitty pays him no mind, but Sam stops and turns to look at him questioningly. "Sam, you don't have to do this."

Sam gives him a confused look. "Dude, are you crazy?"

Oh. That's right. Sam probably finds her attractive. He stands back and watches helplessly as his friend (only)—his _straight_ friend—gets willingly dragged off to fuck a cute blonde cheerleader.

Sam follows her silently to the parking lot and squeezes into her Mini Cooper. "So..." he says as they're fastening their seat belts. He's never really hung out with Kitty much, but it seems like he should try to make small talk at least. "You and Brittany?"

"Don't even _try_ to get any lurid details out of me," she says, backing out of her parking spot. "I don't kiss and tell." She puts the car in drive and adds, "Not that there was much kissing."

And so they don't really converse during the drive. Sam has no idea where Kitty lives and so he doesn't think there's anything unusual about the way she's taking him. But when she parks in front of a duplex that he's been to before, he exclaims, "This is Puck's house!"

"Duh," she says as she drops her keys in her purse. "You don't really think I'd do what we're planning to do in my own house, do you?"

"But...Puck!"

"I called and told him I was bringing you over," she assures him. "We're pals still, he's fine with it."

"Yeah, okay." He still thinks it's a little weird...but then, Puck has always seemed fine with his pals getting laid. So what if one of the pals in question happens to be his ex-girlfriend? It's not like they ever seemed to be that serious.

Kitty marches up to the porch and takes a key out from under a potted plant, muttering about how Puck's family would totally deserve to be burglarized daily for being so obvious. She leads Sam upstairs to Puck's room, where she immediately strips the sheets off the unmade bed. He stands there watching her until she says, "Well? Go change in the bathroom while I'm putting some clean sheets on." She pushes past him on her way to the laundry room or something—Sam's been here before, but he doesn't know the house's layout as well as Kitty obviously does.

Sam changes into the uniform and waits for Kitty in the bedroom. He knows he's going to feel very turned on as soon as they see each other, but right now he just feels weird standing around in Puck's room, by himself, wearing his ex-girlfriend's cheerleading outfit. He hears Kitty knock, but not that close, and he realizes she's probably outside the bathroom door. "I'm in Puck's room!" he calls to her.

"Are you changed already?"

"Yeah."

"Well, stand in the closet then. I don't want to see you until I get clean sheets on the bed."

Oh, that's a good point; Sam didn't even think of that. He gets in the closet—even though it smells kind of bad, like as if Puck puts his _dirty_ clothes in there or something—and closes the door and tells Kitty it's safe to come in. He hears her moving around, but she doesn't actually say anything. But then Sam thinks of something, and he's really glad they haven't seen each other yet. "Do you have any condoms?" he asks through the door. "Or do you think Puck does? Because I didn't think..."

Kitty laughs. "Tell me you're not serious."

"I know I probably should have thought of it before now, but—"

"You know Sue designed that outfit for _Brittany_, right?"

"Uh...yeah."

"And you think she just trusted Brittany to be responsible enough not to get knocked up while slutting around with anyone and everyone?"

"Hey! You can't call my ex a slut."

"Right. Because what she had with _you_ was special," Kitty sneers. "My point is that the uniform makes pregnancy impossible."

"Seriously?" He already knew this outfit was amazing, but now he really has to hand it to Coach Sylvester.

"She couldn't have her star getting knocked up, now could she? Or getting AIDS or crabs or anything—it prevents STDs too."

"Holy fucking..."

"Speaking of which. I hope you don't think I'm going to let you stick it in."

How Sam probably should respond is something like _Oh of course, I would never _assume_ we were going to do that_. That's what he realizes a split second after his actual response, which is a petulant, "What!? Why not?"

"Because I'm a Christian."

"Well, yeah, me too, but..."

"Not much of one, apparently," he hears Kitty mutter, right before she adds, "That's what I would say if I were the judgmental type. But that's God's job, not mine. My job is to follow God's law and remain a virgin until my wedding night."

Sam laughs. He actually thinks she's joking because...come on!

"What's so funny?" He can hear that she's really close to the door now.

"I'm sorry. I wouldn't laugh if I thought..." It's not like he wouldn't respect someone who was sincere about wanting to wait. But Kitty? "I mean...you went out with Puck! And you had sex with Brittany!"

"I never once let Puck put it in." She doesn't mention that there are a couple holes she _did_ let Puck put it in—she never let him put it in the important one, and that's all that counts. "And Brittany doesn't even have anything _to_ put in. Besides, Brittany and I just shared orgasms for the good of the team. That's not even remotely sex."

"Um, okay." Sam really doesn't see the distinction, but now he just really wants to get out of Puck's closet, which is hot and uncomfortable. He's honestly not even that interested in sharing orgasms with Kitty for the good of the team anymore, whatever that means. "Look, I'm sorry I offended you. Why don't we just...if you can just go in the other room I'm gonna go change back into my own clothes, and—"

"Absolutely not!" Kitty declares as she flings open the closet door.

Sam totally doesn't know what made him think for even a second that he might not want to do this—whatever _this_ Kitty will allow—because holy fuck, Kitty is hot. They're wearing identical outfits, and hers looks _so good_ on her. He admires the way she fills out the top, and...holy shit, is that the outline of a nipple? Does she not even have a bra on? Please, please let her not have a bra on. He pulls her top off and she _doesn't have a bra on_! He places a hand over each breast and squeezes them. Damn, he can't wait to see them bounce while he...well, he's still not actually sure what he gets to do with her, exactly.

Fortunately Kitty seems to know exactly what she's doing. She glides her hands under Sam's spanks and gropes his ass pretty much the exact same way he's groping her tits. Except she doesn't do it long; soon she's pushing the spanks down to his knees. She takes hers all the way off and sets them on Puck's desk, and Sam gets a little glimpse of her ass peeking out from under the cheer leading skirt. Before he gets a chance to even try to touch it, she pushes him into a chair—forgetting all about the bed she just changed the sheets on—and sits on his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

She's so wet already. It's been less than a minute probably, and yet he can feel her slickness on his leg—if she stood up and walked away (god, no!) there would be a shiny, glistening spot on his skin. Not that he should be so surprised: he went from zero to sixty boner-wise in an equally short amount of time.

Kitty really doesn't have orgasms easily—even with the powerful multispeed vibrator Puck bought her, it takes considerable time and concentration—except with special-uniform-Brittany...and now, she can already tell, special-uniform-Sam. Honestly, whenever she was with Brittany she worried that she was a secret lesbian. But, no, she's at least as turned on now—probably more so, because she actually legitimately finds Sam attractive (even before now). She almost wishes this could go on longer than she knows it will.

Not that she even seriously considers trying to go slowly. She's a civilized human being _and_ a Christian and she's not a slave to her body's desires—except when she is, like right now. But it's not her fault, it's the uniform! Sue Sylvester will probably go to hell for making it, but that's not Kitty's concern. Especially right now. Right now all she can think about is grabbing Sam's shoulders for balance and grinding furiously against him.

Sam grabs her ass and pulls and pushes her along his leg. This is a little weird for him—Brittany has humped his leg before, but only during foreplay; Kitty seems to think of it as the main event, at least until whatever she's going to do for him. And whenever they get to that, it can't be soon enough. His cock is starting to ache already. Kitty's knee is brushing against his balls now and then, and it sends a pleasurable jolt through him each time, but it's not nearly enough. Her ass feels firm and ripe under his fingers and her perky little tits with her hard pink nipples are bouncing like crazy and he can't wait for this part to be over.

Kitty feels her orgasm start to build inside her. This is when Brittany would always kiss her, why isn't Sam kissing her? She slides her hand up to grasp the back of his head and pulls it to hers. They just barely get their lips together before it hits, she just barely has time to tell Sam, "Keep kissing me" before she has to throw her head back and let out the animal noises that prove she's not a civilized human being at all, she's a depraved, carnal beast.

Sam holds her tight while she bucks roughly against him. He kisses her neck, and her screaming is so loud—it's right by his ear, but it would be loud even if he were across the room. Her whole body is smooshed up against his and he wishes he could have taken his top off so he could feel her skin against his. Her back, where his hands are, and her neck, where his mouth is, are so hot. And _sweaty_. He sort of didn't think Kitty was capable of sweating; she's always so composed and together. Right now she's the exact opposite, she's completely out of control, and it's driving him crazy.

Kitty thrashes and screams, screams and thrashes, just letting the orgasm take control of her completely. It feels like releasing years' worth of built-up tension, and when it ends—almost as abruptly as it started—she's completely drained, unable to do anything but slump against Sam and try to catch her breath. She hears Sam ask if it was good, which is such a stupid question that she wouldn't answer it even if she had the energy to.

Sam reaches between them to stroke his cock. It does nothing—_nothing._ He needs _her_...some way, any way. "Kitty, _please_."

Kitty doesn't lift her head off his shoulder. "Please what?" Then she notices that his hips are moving and where his hand is and asks, "Didn't you climax too?"

"No! And I need to really bad."

Kitty really wishes he could just take care of it himself, but she knows it doesn't work that way. She sighs and says, "As long as you don't try to stick it in and I don't have to do anything, go nuts."

Sam picks her up and lays her on Puck's bed. She's so limp—he can tell she wasn't joking about not being willing to do anything. He straddles one of her legs and rubs his cock up the length of her thigh. It's such a relief, he pretty much doesn't even care that it's about the most ridiculous way he could possibly get himself off. As he rubs against her furiously, rocking both her and the bed back and forth, her tits jiggling all over the place give him another idea. He kisses and licks them desperately, eventually eliciting the first reaction from Kitty since he laid her down: a giggle and a "That tickles."

When they're glistening with his spit—and if they looked good before, they look _amazing_ now—he tries to crawl up her. But he can't with the stupid spanks still around his knees, so he takes them off and ties them around his wrist like he did with Blaine. He straddles her chest and holds her tits up and pushes them together. He rubs his dick between them, though it's awkward with no arms free to steady himself.

Kitty opens her eyes and gives him an incredulous look. "Really? You're going to titty fuck me?"

Sam doesn't miss the condescension in her voice, but he can't even be embarrassed, not even by how desperate his own voice sounds as he says, "Please, Kitty."

Kitty studies him for a few seconds and decides to take pity on the poor boy. "Fine. But if you get semen on my face I will cut you."

"I won't, Kitty," Sam agrees quickly. "I promise."

Kitty nods and even holds her breasts in place for him. It really isn't any weirder than some of the things Brittany did to her to get off. Like the time Brittany flipped her onto her stomach and humped her butt cheek to orgasm.

Sam knows objectively that this is not the best sex he's had in the last couple days, but at the moment it feels like it is. Kitty's boobs are awesome, especially how the way she's holding them makes the nipples pop right out. And they're so soft, but firm enough to really hug his cock as it slides up and down between them. He leans down to lick one of them, and Kitty makes a noise—he's not even sure what it is, another giggle maybe—but there's something about it...Maybe it's that he can actually feel it reverberate through his balls, which are resting heavily on her chest...Anyway it sets him off before he can even remember his promise not to come on her face. The come just gushes out of his throbbing cock in long, powerful ropes that paint Kitty's neck and chin...and maybe a little bit close to her eye.

"I'm sorry!" he gasps as soon as he realizes what he's done. He hopes she'll believe him. He really is sorry, but he also knows he's smiling uncontrollably because that was awesome. He tries to clean it off her with the spanks around his wrist, but she pushes his hand away and pushes him off her. She rolls out of bed and pulls a t-shirt out of Puck's dresser instead. "I really am sorry," he repeats, trying _not_ to smile this time.

"Don't worry about it," Kitty says. It was pretty gross, but she's still in too good a post-orgasm mood to be really mad. And she knows how hard that uniform makes it to control oneself. She puts her clothes back on and says, "Well, I better get out of here before we're stuck doing that again."

She kind of hopes Sam will tell to stay so they can do it again, but he doesn't. Instead he says, "Okay. I'll get changed too and then you can drive me home."

"I really don't want to stick around. I'm sure Puck will give you a ride home."

"Kitty! It won't take me long to get dressed. I don't wanna have to wait around here until god knows when for Puck to get home just so I can ask him for a lift."

"But Puck wants a turn with you too. And don't even try to act gay-panicked because I know you did it with Blaine."

"But..." No, Sam isn't gay-panicking, he's just pretty sure Kitty is wrong that Puck would want to... "What even makes you think..."

"Because I..." Kitty stops when they hear the front door open and close.

"Kitty? Evans? Is it safe to come up?" Yep, that's Puck all right.

"Not exactly," Sam answers, but his response is drowned out by Kitty's much louder, "We're in your room. Come on in!"


End file.
